


like all beautiful things

by akikouyou



Category: The 39 Clues - Various Authors
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Tension, F/F, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akikouyou/pseuds/akikouyou
Summary: The kisses don't mean anything. Right?
Relationships: Nataliya Ruslanovna Radova/Irina Spasky
Kudos: 11





	like all beautiful things

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm not sure what this is and i don't know how to write anything for this fandom except nat and irina

_“But if my mind is doomed to be occupied by a singular obsession, for the love of god, I am glad it is you.” -Beau Taplin // The Over-Thinker_

The kisses started out playful. The first time they had been sitting in the conservatory staring in wonder at a freshly bloomed orchid. Nataliya had been rambling about the ombre pattern of purple on white, and talking about how if her succulents and flowers didn’t have a name then they wouldn’t grow properly or wouldn’t bloom. 

Irina herself didn’t know anything about plants except how to kill them it seemed, but she liked the naming theory, and she didn’t hesitate to let Nataliya know it. They stood up and got ready to head back inside the main house when Nataliya paused for a moment.

“Maybe I’ll name one after you,” she said and leaned forward to peck Irina on the lips. The kiss was short and chaste but made Irina’s lips tingle for a few seconds afterwards. Nataliya strolled past her and went inside, saying nothing as she went by.

The kiss didn’t mean anything at all. It was a common Russian greeting, and a gesture often seen between friends. However, Irina was still glad to be on that level of friendship with Nataliya. After all, Irina thought that she spent more time here than she did at her own apartment. At least, when she wasn’t working.

The next few times she came over, as they were hanging out either outside or in some room together, Nataliya repeated the act. She would plant that same short kiss upon Irina’s unexpecting mouth and continue with whatever they were doing. She acted like it was just a simple touch similar to a hand on a shoulder, innocent and still meaningless. Yet Irina’s face felt warm.

Two weeks later, the kisses had stopped. Irina pretended not to notice, and she didn’t dare attempt to give one back. Everything was the same but not once for eight whole days did Nataliya kiss her. Irina cursed at herself for counting the days and acted like they had never been kissing in the first place.

On day nine, it was already late in the evening when Irina was finally about to go home. They had stayed talking for several hours after dinner about the growing discussion surrounding Nataliya’s dead mother. _Someone_ had snuck into the Romanov tomb, and _someone_ had started spreading the news that Anastasia’s body was “back”. The public was climbing all over the idea, and frankly, the whole branch was a mess trying to cover things up.

Nataliya was stressed about the entire ordeal, but she walked Irina to the front door and followed her outside to the end of the portico. The lights above shielded them from the darkness. Nataliya’s face looked warmer and her hair darker. Irina paused on the step, wondering if she was going to say anything else. Nataliya looked thoughtful for a few moments before closing the space between them and leaving a lingering kiss upon Irina’s lips.

“Goodnight,” she whispered and disappeared inside just as quickly as she had come out.

Irina stood there on the porch for a few seconds, a little shocked. She reached up and touched where Nataliya had been. That was not a friendship kiss. It was different from the other ones, but still left Irina confused. She decided not to think too much more about it and went home.

Two days later, Irina was sent on an assignment in Paris. She didn’t know how long she was going to be gone, only that she didn’t want to go. It must have been urgent, because she had left straight from the Centre to the airport in Moscow. She brooded on the plane, but kept her mouth shut the entire time.

An entire month passed before Irina got to go home again. But before she even stepped foot in her own apartment, she went to see Nataliya, who she hadn’t even been able to talk to while she was away. That afternoon, she ended up falling asleep in the library while Nataliya was reading something. She was awoken by Nataliya softly telling her to come eat dinner.

Afterwards, when they walked out to the portico, Nataliya said goodnight and kissed her once again before going back inside. 

The following few weeks, the evening routine was consistent. Irina came over frequently for dinner, practically every night, and the ritual at the end was always the same. Nataliya would follow her outside for a minute, she’d kiss Irina, and then say goodnight before going back in.

After a while, Irina found herself looking forward to these goodnight kisses. She still didn’t know what they meant, and she never once dared to kiss back, but she finally admitted to herself that she liked them on some level. Maybe it was because she had no one else to touch her or kiss her, and that’s why it felt good. She thought that Nataliya must feel the same way. She was confined to either her own house or the stronghold, hardly going out and meeting people much less dating. Nataliya had to be desperate for affection, and Irina just happened to be the closest person to her. Convenient, that’s all it was.

One night in particular though happened a little different. Nataliya followed her out as usual, and when she leaned in for the kiss, Irina stood still as she always did and let it happen. However, Nataliya didn’t essay goodnight and didn’t disappear back into the house right away as she usually did. Instead she intensely stared right back at Irina for a moment, a thoughtful look spread across her face. A look that made Irina wish she knew what she was thinking.

Then Nataliya said simply, “Come early tomorrow,” and finally slipped back through the door.

Irina remained on the steps for a few moments before finally heading out towards the gate. Come early she had said. Irina wondered what time early was. Six? Seven? She was usually up by that time anyway. Sometimes she would have meetings as early as seven, so sleeping past six was a luxury.

Tomorrow was a Saturday though, nothing exciting should be going on, at least she hoped. She slept soundly through the night and woke up easily near five o’clock. She contemplated laying in bed for a little while longer, but soon grew restless and got up. By six she was showered, dressed, and two cups of coffee down before walking out the door.

Upon arriving at Nataliya’s, she found the gate already open. It was not yet even at the half hour mark. She panicked suddenly, wondering if she should turn around. What if early just meant earlier than she usually came over, which was just after lunch on most days.

Coming up on the front door, she stood there idly for an abnormal amount of time. The door opened in front of her and she nearly jumped. On the other side was not Nataliya, but instead her housekeeper, Olga.

The woman smiled and asked her to come in, ushering Irina with both hands. The house was quiet. Granted it was always quiet, but since it was so early in the morning it was a different quiet.

“Upstairs,” Olga said, and shuffled away to the next room.

Irina climbed the staircase, feeling a little bit like an intruder despite the ridiculous amount of time she had spent her. All the rooms they usually inhabited were empty, and Irina was beginning to think that Nataliya was still asleep.

Soon though, as she began heading down the West Wing, she heard light footsteps, and someone stepped out towards the end of the hallway.

“There you are, did you get lost on your way up here?” Nataliya teased and approached Irina. When they reached each other, Nataliya smiled and gave her yet another kiss. This one radiating the same energy as when it usually happened at night. She turned Irina around and gently pushed her along the hallway, following closely behind.

“Why did you want me here so early?” Irina asked as Nataliya guided her down the stairs.

“I wanted to eat breakfast together.”

Irina felt something stir inside, but she said nothing as they entered the dining room.

The morning was nice, breakfast had been pleasant. The sun was now brightly shining through the east side of the house. Somehow, they wound up in the conservatory again surrounded by Nataliya’s many succulents and flowers. Several that Irina was pretty sure didn’t grow natively, but she never asked where Nataliya got them. Today, she insisted she had something to show Irina.

Nestled between bright green leaves was a new plant with small purple buds that were just beginning to open, surrounded by some dark berries.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” Nataliya pointed to it. “Was a little difficult to get my hands on, but it is the one I named after you. Tell me, what do you smell?”

Irina leaned in, feeling a little strange yet inhaling anyway.

“Sweet.”

“You can do better than that.”

Irina was hardly a poet, far from it in fact. But she leaned in again, this time closing her eyes.

“Delicate, subtle. Sweet like the berries, but not from the forest. Like a jungle.”

“What is it saying to you?”

Irina opened her eyes, giving Nataliya her best _‘really?’_ stare, but Nataliya only gestured to the flower again, patiently waiting. So Irina looked once more, willing the right words to come to her.

“Touch me, with your finger. Softly. The scent on my neck. Open your mouth. Taste me.” Suddenly, she went very red, and she couldn’t make eye contact with the woman next to her anymore, who seemed to be subtly inching her way closer to Irina every passing minute.

“What is it?” Irina finally asked, still not looking.

“Atropa Belladonna.”

This time Irina finally looked at her, and let her face return to normal. “Deadly nightshade,” she said, having recognized the name. She was fond of poisons after all. “Very poisonous. Quite lethal.”

“Like all beautiful things,” Nataliya purred.

A little dazed, Irina didn’t notice the smile Nataliya carried as she slipped past her and went back into the house. Irina looked to the beautiful plant once again, admiring it’s deadliness before heading back in as well.

Irina stayed at Nataliya’s for the rest of the day and had more fun than she could ever remember having before. It was a very specific kind of fun. Neither she nor Nataliya bothered going anywhere or doing anything particularly exciting. It was mostly just laying around together in various parts of the house and occasionally saying something to the other until dinner. It was a little strange, for Irina had never liked just sitting around like an indolent sloth. It made her feel too uncomfortable. But today, with Nataliya, she didn’t mind. By nine that evening Nataliya claimed she was ready for bed, and although Irina had spent the whole day with her, she was still a little disappointed. 

As the time came for Nataliya to walk her out, she was more than ready to be kissed goodnight, so when Nataliya’s lips touched hers, she boldly kissed back. A flicker of doubt coursed through Irina when she felt the other woman stop for a second, but it quickly vanished when Nataliya kept going, and for slightly longer than usual. Afterwards, she hurried back inside, almost forgetting to say goodnight before shutting the door.

The following Monday, Irina received a call at work from Nataliya informing her that she didn’t need to come over for the rest of the week. It was shocking and it hurt, so she decided to stay late for the day. Few people were still there by the time she left the Centre, and upon arriving home she sadly made food for herself and went to bed early.

After the phone call, Irina did not hear from Nataliya for the rest of the week. She was beginning to grow concerned, and immediately worried that she had crossed the line on Saturday night. She temporarily entertained the thought of stopping by the stronghold, but quickly shut the idea down. Distraught and a little embarrassed, she decided to go have a drink with a few people from the Centre. By the end of the night, not one single thought of Nataliya had even crossed her mind.

More than a little drunk, she took a cab home and staggered up the steps to her apartment. She was only inside for a mere two seconds before a knock sounded at her door. In Irina’s head, it sounded twice as loud as it actually was and she growled all the way to the door, whipping it open wildly to reveal whoever was on the other side at this hour.

She was prepared to give whoever it was a verbal lashing, until she recognized the silky dark hair and porcelain like face of the one and only Nataliya Radova.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she lazily stepped to the side and let the woman in.

“Are you drunk?” Nataliya asked.

“No,” Irina muttered and shut the door. She collapsed on the couch, head spinning, and she blinked a couple times. Nataliya stayed standing by the door, looking as awkward as ever and though Irina was intoxicated, she couldn’t help but notice that Nataliya still looked somewhat composed.

“I came by earlier, but I didn’t know you weren’t going to be home,” Nataliya confessed and Irina brought her hands to her face.

Peeping through two fingers she said, “How did you get here?”

Nataliya shifted on her feet. “I drove.”

Every single alarm went off in Irina’s head. “You drove?”

Nataliya was a terrible driver, as she didn’t have very much practice. She could fly a helicopter by remote perfectly, but forget putting her in a car. Irina grumbled, knowing she was too sozzled to drive Nataliya home tonight.

“Why are you here?” she asked, and Nataliya moved to sit down on the couch opposite of her.

“I wanted to talk.”

“You didn’t want to talk to me all week.”

“I wanted to be alone. I had to think about some things.”

 _What things_ , Irina wondered. Maybe how to use Irina at her own convenience to satisfy her own touch starved needs. That’s what the past few months had all been about. Nataliya was lonely, and Irina didn’t have many friends so of course she slumped around at Nataliya’s every evening. How pathetic of her.

“Whatever,” Irina slurred and made the mistake of looking over at Nataliya. She still looked awkward, yet she never once dropped the gracious royal flare Irina liked. She rolled over so she wouldn’t have to look at the other woman.

“You can have the bed,” Irina finally called out to her.

Nataliya didn’t try to argue, didn’t try to move her, but instead silently left her alone on the couch while she retreated to the bedroom in the back. Undressing and crawling underneath the covers, she wished that she was in Irina’s bed under different circumstances.

Early the next morning, Irina took her home, and not a word was spoken between them on the way there. The tension was palpable. In a clearer state of mind now, Irina wanted to ask what Nataliya had wanted last night, but she decided to forget it. She didn’t want to start that conversation knowing there might not be time to finish it.

She walked Nataliya all the way from the car to the front door, hoping that she wouldn’t say anything. Nataliya paused before going inside, looking at Irina desperately like she wanted to… wanted to what exactly? The silence remained as she entered the house. Irina got in her car and drove to work. Another dreadful day.

Later that afternoon, Olga called her and explained that Nataliya hoped Irina could join her for dinner. Irina accepted the invitation, though she was irritated. So now Nataliya couldn’t even call her herself. She spent the rest of the day in a bad mood.

At dinner, Nataliya acted like nothing had changed. She babbled on about the usual things, work and languages and plants. Irina listened as she always did, and finally afterwards they retreated upstairs to the library so Nataliya could show her something in a notebook.

Eventually though, both of them settled on the chesterfield sofa, silently content with just each other’s presence. Irina remembered how much she liked just sitting with her, and immediately forgot her drunk anger from the previous night.

The time passed by quickly, and Irina’s thoughts were occupied by images of Nataliya’s rambles. She could probably listen to her talk all day if she wanted to. It would beat listening to debriefings and muffled words captured by old listening devices.

When Irina looked up, Nataliya was staring at her. They maintained eye contact for a moment, Irina unable to break away from those clear gray eyes. Right then and there she decided that somehow, they filled her universe. She broke the trance and stood up.

“It is late,” Irina said. Nataliya was visibly disappointed but she didn’t protest.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Irina stiffened at the statement, knowing what usually came with that, and she wondered what would happen tonight.

Everything went as it always did, up until they stepped outside the front door. Irina stood by the steps and waited, wondering what would happen next. Nataliya stayed in front of the threshold.

Irina turned, wondering if she should just say goodnight and go. If she didn’t, things were going to get awkward fast.

Then, Nataliya began approaching her like she was some kind of spooked horse before eventually reaching for one of Irina’s hands and taking it in her own. She was unsurprisingly warm, and Irina froze when Nataliya’s face moved close. When the other woman’s mouth found hers, she relaxed. They kept kissing, slowly and tremulously, and then with building passion.

Irina did not know how long they had been standing there, but Nataliya eventually pulled away and retreated into her home.

“Goodnight,” she said, this time smiling at Irina before shutting the door.

The next few weeks were filled with moments like those rather than just at the end of the day. Most recently it had been in the bathroom before dinner. Irina had Nataliya pinned against the back of the door and they were so preoccupied with one another that they hadn’t heard Olga coming upstairs looking for them.

A knock on the other side of the door behind Nataliya’s head made Irina nearly jump a mile. She hit the side of the sink as Nataliya shoved her away with enough force to knock down a professional wrestler.

“We’ll be down in a minute, Olga,” Nataliya said, already patting down her hair which hadn’t even gotten messed up.

“Was that really necessary?” Irina asked, rubbing her arm where it had smacked the porcelain. She hardly thought the old housekeeper was going to say anything to anyone. She was on the Lucian payroll and had worked here even when Anastasia Romanov had been alive, so that was already one secret being kept. Nataliya’s very identity was already confidential. Besides, it was already probably very obvious that something was going on, even if Olga couldn’t work out exactly what it was. After all, Irina was here all the time and lately they had been sneaking and hiding about in various places all over the house.

What was the worst thing that could happen to them anyway should someone discover their… happenings? They could get arrested, that’s what. Of course, people these days did all sorts of weird stuff, and Irina had definitely seen some weird stuff by nature of her job. But, a fair number of people did get arrested just for doing what they had been doing, whatever you wanted to call it.

She left the thought alone and trailed after Nataliya downstairs for dinner. The food was pleasant as always, and afterwards they went outside for a walk. It would probably be the last for a while since the days were getting shorter and the air was getting colder.

Behind Nataliya’s massive villa, a breathtaking yard provided an excellent stroll at all times of the day. It was especially satisfying sitting at the small pond though and watching the sun set.

“Nataliya,” Irina began, catching the attention of the woman next to her. “What is with you kissing me?”

Might as well be blunt about it. The topic had to come up sooner or later. It already almost had that dreadful drunken night in Irina’s apartment.

“What is with me kissing you?” Nataliya repeated. “You kiss me back. You like it.”

“You started this.”

“It would seem so.”

“But you’re straight,” Irina said. At least, that’s what she had thought being how she could recall a time where Nataliya and Alek had… she pushed the thought away. It was a long time ago anyway.

“Yes,” Nataliya snapped. “Because straight women like being kissed by other women.”

Irina shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Okay. Then I’m not straight.” And it felt weird to admit it, even to the woman whose lips had repeatedly been claimed by hers over the past few months.

“Would you ever do anything besides kiss me?” Nataliya boldly asked.

“No.” It came out sounding like a confident answer.

“Look at me.”

Irina’s gaze slowly left the pond and her eyes fell upon Nataliya, starting at her face and involuntarily working her way down. So maybe she had dreamed about pushing Nataliya down on a bed and peeling off those suits she always wore. And maybe she had visualized once or twice about running her fingers over soft skin. She never thought kissing Nataliya would make her imagination quite so vivid.

“You’re undressing me with your eyes,” Nataliya said.

“I am not.”

“I can read it all over your face.”

Irina opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it as Nataliya placed two hands on her hips and leaned in to kiss her. It only lasted a few seconds before Nataliya tugged on her arm and they began walking back towards the house.

“Will you spend the night?” Nataliya asked her as they reached the delivery door near the back. Irina’s face burned. They still had so much to talk about.

“If you’d like,” she said.

“I would like it.”

They wordlessly trudged upstairs to the bedroom, door closed and a window pried open, for both of them felt like they were on fire. Nataliya disappeared into a side room for a moment, and Irina sat down on the edge of the bed. 

It certainly was strange being in here by herself. Irina really didn’t mind being in Nataliya’s bed, so long as Nataliya would be joining her in it.

“Hurry up,” she called, and Nataliya reappeared shortly.

“Someone is impatient,” Nataliya said, climbing on top of the sheets and pulling Irina down next to her.

So maybe they did have a lot to talk about, but that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight at least, they had each other, and that was enough.


End file.
